


Venganza

by Akiko_Natsuko, TheHiddenScribe



Series: R76 - Amor [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Assassination Attempt(s), Assassins & Hitmen, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Near Death, Protectiveness, Revenge, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-08-22 19:59:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16604531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHiddenScribe/pseuds/TheHiddenScribe
Summary: 'Because with those discharge papers had come freedom from the orders, the missions, the diversions that had kept him from his real goal all this time. He no longer had to answer to them, to be the obedient weapon and he was free now – free to choose his own target, his own mission. After all, what was a weapon without a target?'Jack and Gabriel have come a long way since Byrne's attack. They survived the Crisis, and the numerous threats that accompanied Overwatch's rise - but they might not be prepared for the past coming back to haunt them.





	1. Chapter 1

_Byrne’s expression tightened for a minute before it was replaced by a smirk that told Jack he knew that all the blond had now was words and nothing to back them up, fear rising at the sight of it even as he did his best not to show it._

_“Farewell Morrison,” Byrne’s grip on his hair disappeared, but he wasn’t given a chance to feel relieved because fresh pain erupted in his head. There was no stopping the darkness now as it rushed in on him, and he had a vague impression of the other man moving away from him, but his thoughts were elsewhere, anguish rising as his eyes drifted shut._

_Gabe, I’m sorry…_

     Jack woke with a strangled gasp, one hand automatically going to his chest, half expecting to find blood against his fingers while with his other hand he reached out to grasp the man curled against him. There was no blood, and Gabriel’s body was warm and wonderfully real, the Alpha grumbling under his breath as the movement disturbed him, one arm snaking out and instinctively pulling him closer. Jack didn’t fight him, desperately needing the reassurance even as the nightmarish images began to recede as his gaze wandered around the room, taking in the clutter they had finally been allowed to accumulate, the photos lining the top of the chest of drawers. Home. He was at home.

He was safe.

     Slowly he relaxed back into Gabriel’s hold, forcing himself to take deep breaths and try to calm down, knowing that there was no way he was going to get back to sleep like this. It had been a long time since he had thought about Byrne and what had happened that day, the scars from that betrayal having long since faded to pale white, although they had never disappeared completely much to his disappointment. So why was it haunting him tonight? He sighed, deciding to pass it off as stress as he had spent the last few days in seemingly never-ending conferences with politicians who seemed determined to use Overwatch for their own agendas, something he was fiercely arguing against. He groaned, twisting so that he could bury his face against Gabriel, drinking in his mate’s scent and letting his eyes close, the stress from his nightmare and the last few days beginning to melt away.

“Jack?” Gabriel mumbled, still more asleep than awake but rousing as he caught the sour note that Jack hadn’t been able to stop from seeping into his scent, something that was always guaranteed to get Gabriel’s attention as he had never lost his obsession with Jack’s scent. Even now he was curling closer, burying his nose in the crook of Jack’s neck, nuzzling him in an attempt to soothe him and bring back his normal scent. “What happened…?”

“Just a nightmare,” Jack murmured, smiling at the sleepy slurring and shifting his head to give Gabriel better access. Gabriel didn’t need any encouragement, pressing closer and drawing a chuckle out of Jack as he peppered the area with gentle kisses, their scents entwining until it was possible to tell where one began and the other ended. This was all that mattered, Jack told himself, feeling the last of the tension beginning to ease away under his mate’s ministrations, guessing that his scent must be reflecting that as Gabriel’s contented hum vibrated against his skin. However, he should’ve known that Gabriel wouldn’t let it slide just like that, tensing when the Alpha pulled back, feeling the dark eyes watching and hunkering down.

“What was it about?” Jack didn’t want to answer, unable to bring himself to look at Gabriel in case the answers were written across his face, but he couldn’t stop his fingers from straying to his shoulder where the worst scar was. A nervous habit that he had never been able to shake, and he knew that Gabriel had worked it out when he felt the growl that rumbled to life a moment later and despite himself he flinched, ducking his head even further. “Jack…” He could smell the anger coming from his mate in rolling waves, but there was no trace of it in the soft whisper of his name, and slowly he lifted his head, aching at the knowing look in Gabriel’s eyes as their gazes met. “It’s been a while, huh?” Gabriel murmured, and Jack flushed, only to find himself being flush against his mate’s chest, trembling as despite himself he clung to Gabriel.

“I don’t know why…I’m sorry.” _I’m sorry that I’m dragging up the past for both us…_

“Jack,” Gabriel sounded pained by his anguished admission, and Jack waited to be pushed away, but instead he was tugged closer, warm fingers brushing against his shoulder before moving up to massage gently at the back of his neck. “That isn’t something you have to apologise for.” He added the latter with emphasis, a throwback to Jack’s utter dismay when Gabriel had been passed up for the Strike Commander position because of the trouble he had caused during that incident. It was something that had weighed heavy on Jack for years, and the promotion had nearly made him crumble, but Gabe had been right there to catch him. Laughing at the decision, promising Jack that he didn’t mind, that he was better working in the shadows. Even managing to draw a laugh from Jack when he said it would be easier to make sure that the politicians and military leaders that had been trying to worm their way closer didn’t get their filthy hands on his mate.

“But…”

“I still see it too,” Gabriel cut him off, voice soft and when Jack peered up at him, there was a distant expression on his mate’s face and the grip holding him in place was beginning to border on painful.  “I was already trying to prepare myself for the worst, but then you appeared, still trying to save me even though you were barely alive.” Jack matched Gabriel’s shudder with his own, remembering the sheer need to find his mate and the terror at finding him in danger. “And then when I got to you…” Gabriel’s grip on him was painful now, bruising as his desperation translated into the present but Jack didn’t protest, couldn’t protest, not when his mate sounded so raw, and so he leant closer, making a comforting crooning noise in the back of his throat. “…. I thought I had already lost you. And there are some nights when I wake up thinking that I did, that I was too late.”

“Gabe…” Jack was silenced by a fierce kiss, and he immediately melted into it, matching Gabriel’s desperation with his own. He’d known. Of course, he had, after all on the nights when Gabriel was haunted by those nightmares Jack was dragged out of his sleep by desperate hands fumbling for a pulse, reaching to stop bleeding that was no longer there. Yet somehow, he had needed to hear it again, feeling some of his guilt easing as Gabriel slowly gentled the kiss, fingers framing Jack’s face, and when they parted he lingered, leaning their foreheads together.

“Don’t ever apologise for what that…man did.” There was still an undercurrent of anger in his voice, a harshness when he referred to Byrne that Jack had long since realised would never disappear completely, his mate still furious over the punishment that had been given. “Or the fact that you can’t forget.” Gabriel finally pulled back, hands dropping as he moved to intercept Jack who had been reaching for his shoulder once more, squeezing his fingers. “I’d take a thousand disturbed nights over the fact that I could’ve lost you that day.”

    Jack didn’t have the words to fight that, instead leaning up to kiss Gabriel, softer than their previous one. Thanking him. Reassuring him, and he didn’t protest when Gabriel deepened it, taking control as he gently guided them both back down onto the bed, finally releasing his hand so that his own could roam, moving with unerring accuracy to each of the scars that had been inflicted that day. It had taken long months, and constant reassurance before Jack had stopped flinching every time Gabriel went near those mementoes, and longer still for him to let go of his doubts, and for half a second, he stiffened at the gentle touch, before sinking into it. There was no hesitation in Gabriel’s touch, and he knew that if he could see his eyes right now, they would be looking at him as though he was the most beautiful thing in the world, and he sighed, pulling out of the kiss so he could whisper. “Thank you…”

    Gabriel didn’t reply, but he could feel him smiling against his lips before he was kissed once more, and then his mate was pulling back, just enough to settle beside him, curling around him like a human blanket. A buffer against any other nightmares that might try to creep in, but Jack knew, even before he was pulled in, his nose coming to rest against Gabriel’s neck, that there would be no more nightmares for him tonight and he couldn’t help but thank him again. There was a sigh, followed by a kiss to the temple as Gabriel settled down, his warmth and presence already lulling Jack closer to sleep, when his mate finally replied.

“I love you.”

****

‘… _Strike Commander Morrison announced today that Overwatch is in the process of developing a dedicated Medical Research Centre. The centre will be tasked with developing advanced healing technologies, as well as researching cures, with the aim of bringing their findings to everyone regardless of borders or…’_

     The reporter’s voice was lost in static as a scarred fist smashed the holo-pad against the table, the force crushing the delicate device and sending the pieces scattering across the table and the files covering it. With a snarl, Byrne swept them to the floor before turning his attention back to the files in front of him, the snarl remaining on his lips as his gaze tracked over the numerous photos of Jack Morrison - Cadet 76, and now Strike Commander of Overwatch. Hatred and anger burning like a flame in his chest, and he had to fight the urge to send the files flying too. _Damn him, damn him to hell…_ It rankled that the Omega had not only survived that day but managed to claw and charm his way into a position above the very Alphas he had trained beside.

Above Byrne…

    Paper crumpled under his fingers as they curled into a fist, bitterness welling up as he stared down at the images and his own scarred hands, not even the enhanced healing factor from SEP had been enough to save them and yet it had been enough to let Morrison survive. He growled, low and angry, eyes tracing each and every mark on his hands, counting them, remembering how he had earned each one. Each mark evidence of the hell he had been forced to endure after his farce of a trial – a trial that he should never have had. An indignity that still burned as he remembered the accusing gazes, the whispers, the disappointment – and the flickers of support that had fallen on deaf ears, and worse those that had whispered one thing to him but then sat there in silence, unmoved by his plight.

He had been thrown to the lions.

       However, he’d been too valuable an asset for SEP to dispose of him completely. They’d pumped too much money and experimentation into him, and besides they didn’t have enough graduates to waste even one, but he had been irreparably damaged by the media storm that had followed Morrison’s rescue and, so he had to be swept aside. Hidden, but put to work. So, while the rest of his cohort continued through SEP together, surrounded by people who understood what they were going through, training together, growing together, he had suffered it all alone in a remote cell. He hadn’t been considered a soldier. Instead, he had been moulded, painfully and slowly into the perfect weapon, and then he had been put to work.

    While Morrison and Reyes lead the other SEP graduates, and later the ‘famous’ strike team against the Omnics, he had been left to work in the shadows. Unnoticed. Unappreciated. While they were showered with glory and gratitude, he was staining his hands with blood, removing threats to peace or just threats in general, he had stopped asking at some point. Stopped caring. He did as he was ordered, using each mission to hone his skills, to become a better weapon, and all the while in the back of his mind he knew who his real target was…

    Then the Crisis had ended. The Strike Team and their leaders were hailed as saviours by the world’s media, Politicians and Military leaders moving to honour them and bring them onside, laying the world at their feet…and Byrne. Byrne had once again been swept under the carpet, because there was no place for a weapon like him in this dawning age of peace. Oh, there were a few jobs here and there, surveillance, the odd spark of resistance to be quelled but nothing like before. Then had come the rumours about a new peacekeeping organisation and for a moment he had dared to hope, to think that maybe he might be able to find a place in this new world.

That he might be given a second chance.

    It had all come crashing down a few weeks later when every news channel and radio station had been buzzing with the news that Jack Morrison had been named Strike Commander of the new organisation. There had been no mention of the fact that he was an Omega, or that his own mate had been passed over for the promotion, although even Byrne had heard the talk about what Reyes had done to protect himself and Morrison – the other Alpha’s name bandied around at his trial and shouted at him by the press who had circled him like vultures. Later he’d heard that the Brass had been less than happy with him because of it, although it hadn’t stopped them bowing to Reyes demands at the time. Still, surely that should have paled in comparison to the thought of putting an Omega in a position like that? In giving an Omega that much power?

    The paper he was holding ripped, the tear running straight through the middle of Jack Morrison’s photo and a cruel expression flitted across Byrne’s face. He had always known, from the moment the judgement had been given in the farce of a trial he had been given, that his one and only mission was to make the Omega pay for destroying everything he had worked for, but time and circumstance had worked against him, protecting Morrison from his wrath.

Not any longer…

     His gaze shifted to the papers pinned to the wall, the innocuous sheets that had arrived in a neat little envelope three days before. His discharge papers. Apparently, he was free to go, as long as he never mentioned SEP or any of the work he had done of course, and he wasn’t naïve enough to think they wouldn’t be watching to make sure that he held his tongue. After all, details of the program were still relatively unknown, and they didn’t want to admit that they had gone against some of the very ethics that Overwatch now stood to represent. However, he had nothing to fear from those watchful eyes because he had no interest in revealing those secrets, as far as he was concerned SEP had strengthened him, honed his weapons.

   No, what he cared about was the freedom now in his grasp. Because with those discharge papers had come freedom from the orders, the missions, the diversions that had kept him from his real goal all this time. He no longer had to answer to them, to be the obedient weapon and he was free now – free to choose his own target, his own mission. After all, what was a weapon without a target? And his gaze turned back to the torn photo, eyes studying the features that had been hardened by the Omnic Crisis, at odds with his last sight of the Omega crumpling unconscious to the ground. He would be different this time. More dangerous, and Byrne licked his lips in anticipation as he reached out and traced a finger over the photo.

It wouldn’t be enough.

Not this time.

 


	2. Chapter 2

   Jack grumbled under his breath as he fought to get the chest plate into position, not for the first missing the effective, simplicity of their old body armour. It might have looked as intimidating, or impressive as the press liaison kept telling him, but it was more practical and didn’t have him wanting to tear his hair out whenever he had to wear the blasted thing. He was getting close to that point, ready to toss the whole thing across his room when a warm hand gripped his wrist before he could give in to the temptation. There was a light squeeze before Gabriel stepped up alongside him and took it from him with a roll of his eyes and a knowing smirk that had Jack wanting to hit him.

“Arms out,” Gabriel must’ve sensed his mood, because he didn’t tease, and Jack took a deep breath before obediently lifting his arms, allowing his partner to slip the chest plate into place. This close all he could smell was his mate, the familiar scent helping to ease the ball of tension in his chest that he had been trying to ignore all morning as he went over his speech, and the plans for security that Gabriel insisted that he always know inside out. He sighed, blowing out a shaky breath and closed his eyes, indulging himself for a second as he lost himself in Gabriel’s scent, and the light touches as he finished buckling the armour into place.

     Which was why he was caught by surprise when warm lips met his, eyebrows raising, as he felt Gabriel’s hands sliding down his abdomen, foiled by the armour, and he grinned into the kiss as he felt more than heard the curse that following. “I thought you were helping me?” He teased pulling back, the glint in Gabriel’s eyes telling him that he was seriously considering just removing the armour. Something that Jack wouldn’t be opposed to, although he knew that would make them both late, and he was more than a little bit disappointed when Gabriel stepped back.

“I am.” The disappointment was softened, when he swooped back in to steal a quick kiss. “Come on, let’s get you ready for the media circus.”

    Considering that the last thing he needed to put on was the ostentatious coat that was apparently an essential part of the uniform, he didn’t really need more help, but he wasn’t about to complain as Gabriel helped him into it. Hands lingering just a little too long, and in all the wrong places, and Jack was more than a bit hot under the collar when he stepped back, fiddling with the sleeves and sighing as he glanced down at himself. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to wearing this.” _Or being in this position,_ he added silently, not wanting to cycle back through that old conversation.

“Blue looks good on you Jack,” Gabriel said soothingly, the crooked grin telling Jack that he knew exactly where his thoughts had gone, and he flushed and glanced to the side. Flustered by how well his mate knew him, and he was almost relieved when Gabriel took pity on him and changed the subject. Almost, because Gabriel moved to his desk and scooped up the file on security that he had left for Jack to read. Just the main points of course, because the other man had never been one to put all his eggs in one basket, and Jack had long since decided that he didn’t want to know what other measures his mate had in place. “Did you go over these?”

“Briefly,” Jack admitted, knowing better than to lie as Gabriel had a habit of grilling him on the details after the one time, he had skipped the file, and wound up separated from his security detail during a visit to one of the many memorials that had been built following the Crisis and straight into an ambush. Jack was still a SEP enhanced soldier and even armed with nothing but the small sidearm that was all he was permitted on these visits, and he had held out until help arrived, but Gabriel had taken weeks to forgive him, and he had never forgotten.

“Jack…”

“You worry too much.”

“And you don’t worry enough,” Gabriel growled, humour disappearing as he gestured wildly with the folder, his scent growing stronger as he continued. “They paint a target on your back every time they put you up on that stage Jack, and if…” There was a spike in his scent, and Jack felt the hairs on his arm stand up, ignoring the part of him that told him to back off and let Gabriel calm down in favour of moving closer, quietly reaching for Gabriel.

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” he murmured, quelling the shiver that went down his spine as Gabriel’s gaze snapped to him. The nightmare that had roused them a few weeks ago and that had plagued him ever since echoing in his thoughts and reflected in Gabriel’s gaze. “I’ve got you watching my back, and I’m not completely helpless you know,” Jack reminded him, reaching down with his free hand and pulling the flap of the coat aside to reveal the handgun holstered at his side. It as nothing compared to the pulse rifle, but in his hands, it could be just as deadly, and he was rewarded by seeing some of the tension melting out of his mate as Gabriel followed his gaze.

“I know,” Gabriel sighed, stepping closer and leaning in to rest their foreheads together as he added softly. “It doesn’t stop me from worrying.”

“I know,” Jack was the one to kiss him this time, tender, but chaste as he knew they couldn’t get distracted now, barely resisting the urge to curl closer and bury his nose in his mate’s scent. “And I will be careful, I promise.”

****

    The man, a Blackwatch agent, going by his uniform dropped silently, neck broken as Byrne moved into the position that he had been occupying a block out from where Jack Morrison was scheduled to step on stage in less than half an hour. It wouldn’t be noticeable to the casual observer, but he was quivering, years of anticipation boiling down to this moment, and yet his hands were steady as he checked his weapons.

    It had taken him weeks to plan this, calling in every favour he had ever managed to earn during his time with the military, and even stretching out a hand to those who shared his hatred for Overwatch and her Leader – not that he had any intention of sharing this kill. Still, it made him still, taking a deep breath as he locked his limbs in place, quashing the eagerness as best he could. He would only have one chance for this to work because at the moment he was below the radar – Morrison and Reyes so complacent in their current positions that they would never anticipate him coming after them. However, once he made his move, they would know, and as much as he didn’t want to acknowledge their skill, he had read enough of their exploits to know that it might not be a fight that he could win.

   Although all he would need was one shot – he wouldn’t make the same mistake again he had last time, once he had the omega in his sights, a snarl tugging at his lips, the anger still burning bright after all this time. _Soon,_ he promised himself. _Soon._ He checked the rest of his equipment, the anger sinking back beneath the surface as he worked. The years spent as a weapon having taught him how to hone that anger to a sharp, functional point, masked behind a wall of calm, and by the time he set the last item back into place, he was calm.

    Shoving the body aside, he settled lower behind the wall, shuffling across until he had a clear view of his target. It was impossible to miss with the large Overwatch emblem hanging between the blue curtains that framed the podium, and the hustle and bustle of the security team that was running their last checks. He paid no mind to them, they were the muscle and no threat to him. No, it was the agents like the one he had killed that concerned him the most, knowing that their reputation of unpredictable moves, and their loyalty to Reyes. He couldn’t underestimate them, and he scanned the area, locating the ones that he had already noted during his approach, relieved to find them all in place before he turned his attention back to the main event.

    A crowd had already formed, contained a safe distance from the podium. The front rows practically bristling with microphones and cameras, as the various media teams pushed their way to the front. He had considered blending in amongst them at first, the thought of the entire world watching as he showed them who and what Jack Morrison really was as he destroyed them had been incredibly tempting. But it wouldn’t have been enough. Not for the humiliation he had suffered because of him and Reyes, the years of isolation, the papers pinned to the wall that had stripped him of what little he’d had left to his name. No, merely destroying Jack Morrison was never going to be enough, and so his plan had evolved, and here he was, anticipation curling in the pit of his stomach as he settled in to wait, his gaze locked on the podium once more.

_Soon…_

****

      Gabriel rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the stress from his shoulders as he stepped into the small command centre and glanced at the vast array of screens. He had said farewell to Jack a few minutes before in the medical outreach centre, having insisted on being the one to escort his mate from the base into the centre of Zurich. Reluctantly turning his mate over to the care of the ‘public’ security detail, and the irritating woman assigned by Petras to serve as Jack’s public liaison specialist who had practically hidden behind Jack after Gabriel had growled at her attempt to admonish them for being late. If he had his way, Jack would be delivering this speech from the relative safety of the base, where Gabriel at least had complete control of the area and more weapons at his disposal. So, he didn’t think that anyone should be able to begrudge them those extra few minutes of reassurance before they had to part ways, and considering the way she had looked at him when Jack had shooed him away with a smile, she wouldn’t make that mistake again.

    Shaking his head and wishing once again that Jack was a little less willing to put his life on the line for Overwatch, trying not to think about the growing pile of threats pinned on the wall of his office, or how many near misses they’d had in the last few months. Jack, although he would argue to the contrary was doing everything, he could in a job that neither of them wanted, however, for every person that could see that and supported his efforts, there were at least twice as many who disagreed, and far too many of those were willing to target his mate.

“Anything amiss?” He demanded, glancing at McCree who was studying every inch of surveillance, sharp eyes flicking from screen to screen, not missing a single detail. That was why he’d put him on this, because as talented as Jesse was in the field, it was his sharp eyes that could make all the difference today. Plus, Gabriel trusted him to protect Jack, especially after the younger agent had taken a bullet during an assassination attempt a few months before.

“Not yet,” McCree replied, not reacting beyond a slight widening of his eyes, to his Commander’s sudden appearance, because Gabriel had already slipped into mission mode, moving silently as he’d entered the room. He didn’t look away from the screens, but his fingers toyed with his belt buckle for a moment, a nervous tick that he couldn’t quite buck before he asked quietly. “Would someone really come after the Strike Commander at an event like this?”

“Yes,” Gabriel replied, knowing it came out a little too sharply and sighing. He could almost understand the doubt because the entire base had been abuzz with the development of the new medical research centre, not least because Angela Ziegler who terrified even the most hardened agents at times had practically been on cloud nine since the announcement had been made. However, he knew that wasn’t a universal view, remembering the information that had come from several of his informants within hours of that announcement. “Not everyone is happy with Overwatch expanding, and this puts Morrison out in the open.” He refused to call him ‘Strike Commander’ unless they were surrounded by other people, but he knew that there were still people who looked for a weakness in his mate, because of his biology, and so even with people he trusted he tried to toe the line of showing respect for the role. Ignoring the knowing look that McCree shot him. “Besides, you’ve seen the threats, this kind of situation just makes it easier for them to target him.” _And the idiot accepts it, and walks out like a lamb to the slaughter…_

    McCree hummed under his breath, before tilting his head towards the screens. “Well, they’re not going to get past us this time,” he said with all the confidence of youth, and Gabriel nodded, even as he moved forward, eyes fixed on the screens that focused on the route that Jack was taking.

“They’re moving,” he muttered, barely paying attention as McCree relayed the news to the rest of their agents, eyes locked on the slow-moving group that was now coming around the side of the medical building. He wished that he had been able to use his own agents for this point, but as Blackwatch wasn’t supposed to exist, he’d had to concede to the Overwatch security forces, and Jack himself had vetoed his suggestion to disguise one of his agents. It didn’t stop his hand from twitching towards his weapon, wishing that he could be out there, as he distracted himself with watching Jack.

    His mate cut a dashing form in the uniform as impractical as the damn thing was, and he had meant it when he’d said that blue suited him. Maybe he could work on convincing him of that once today was over, remembering the heat he had seen in Jack’s eyes earlier and grinning. At least Jack seemed more at ease now, as he always did when was able to confront the problem directly, although he appeared to have at least taken some of Gabriel’s warnings to heart as he looked around. It would seem casual to the public waiting to greet him as he approached the path that led up to the podium, but Gabriel could see him taking in approaches and escape routes, blue eyes calculating, and he felt some of his concern ease.

“Still clear,” McCree reported, listening to whatever had just come over the communicator. “There’s some movement towards the rear of the crowd. Sanders says it’s just protesters, but they’re keeping an eye on them.” Gabriel nodded, eyes flicking away from Jack for a moment and noting the signs now appearing above the heads of the crowd in places, noting the threat and dismissing it. He’d learned the hard way, that the most visible protesters were the ones he had to worry about least in these situations. If that were all they had to deal with today, he would count it as a huge success, as his gaze switched back to Jack as he saw the entire crowd coming alive, watching with a complicated mix of emotions as his mate stepped up onto the podium. Standing tall and proud, even though Gabriel could easily imagine the multitude of things being screamed and shouted at him, and he not for the first time he felt his expression soften, in awe of his mate.

   When the first blast came, it came without warning and at a target he had never expected as the retail unit they were using for the command centre rocked violently around them, the lights flickering and dimming, and then cutting out as a second blast rocked the building.

 


End file.
